Anonymous said: Did you know asexuals are more discriminated against than homosexuals and bisexuals? I can provide proof.

Please do. I’ll wait.

digg:

Now this is the future of fashion.

digg:

Now this is the future of fashion.

c0l0rsandcar0usels:

prochoicebecausefuckoff:

fandomsandfeminism:

nireblue:

fandomsandfeminism:

The difference between bisexuality and pansexuality: a powerpoint guide. 

(updated) 

… but….why put the my little ponies in there…….

1. Because they match the color scheme of the pride flags 

2. I like ponies. 

3. It reenforces the light and cheerful tone of the overall powerpoint. 

This is probably one of the best and least offensive/erasing guides out there and people are complaining about the ponies.

Fucksake. 

This is important

laurennmcc:

face-down-asgard-up:

lushwig-fittgenstein:

fairdig:

little-trouble-grrrl:

Christina Hendricks in her 90s teen goth days

I know there’s plenty of people who want to smooch Joan Holloway, but I just wanna grab a coffee with Christina Hendricks and listen to some Sisters of Mercy.

i literally just yelled “i know you’re doing something but this is important” to get my housemate over to the computer so we could sit in front of this together and go “oh SHIT. what a look WHAT A LOOK STRONG YES STRONG LOOK YES”

I wanna take her to see Bauhaus and smoke cloves omg

Oh JESUS CHRIST Christina Hendricks, are you kidding me with this? Could you BE more perfect? Sigh.

laurennmcc:

face-down-asgard-up:

lushwig-fittgenstein:

fairdig:

little-trouble-grrrl:

Christina Hendricks in her 90s teen goth days

I know there’s plenty of people who want to smooch Joan Holloway, but I just wanna grab a coffee with Christina Hendricks and listen to some Sisters of Mercy.

i literally just yelled “i know you’re doing something but this is important” to get my housemate over to the computer so we could sit in front of this together and go “oh SHIT. what a look WHAT A LOOK STRONG YES STRONG LOOK YES”

I wanna take her to see Bauhaus and smoke cloves omg

Oh JESUS CHRIST Christina Hendricks, are you kidding me with this? Could you BE more perfect? Sigh.

Reblogged from WIL WHEATON dot TUMBLR

The Only Harry Potter Fanfic I Will Ever Write (Probably)

into-the-weeds:

ursulavernon:

(There was a call to make an LJ post today, so since I was thinking about how Hufflepuff gets absolutely no love the other day, you get my sorry attempts at fic.)

            “Help!” cried the very junior wizard, falling down on the doorstep of the medium-sized cottage that would someday be Hogwarts. “Help!  The giants are invading!”
            “Giants?” asked Godric Gryffindor, sticking his head out of the window. “I thought we beat those last week.”
            “These are different giants,” said the junior wizard. “Also wolves. And basilisks.”
            “Wolves and basilisks?”
            “The wolves are riding the basilisks,” said the wizard. “Look, it’s a bit of a mess, all right?” He rubbed his forehead.
            “Are they werewolves?” called Helga Hufflepuff, from inside the cottage. “I firmly believe that werewolves should be judged by their actions as individuals. This anti-lycanthropic discrimination has got to stop.”
            “They’re riding basilisks,” said Godric. “They’re probably not upstanding members of the werewolf community.”
            “Wouldn’t they have turned to stone?” asked Rowena Ravenclaw, who was sitting in an armchair with a book. She turned a page.
            “Smoked goggles,” said the junior wizard shortly. “Incidentally, I’m bleeding rather a lot.”
            “Oh, you poor dear,” said Helga, wiping her hands on her apron. “Come in and we’ll get you fixed up.”
            The junior wizard sat at the dining room table and was given cookies and a very large brandy, while the four great wizards planned their next move.
            Unfortunately, they were still not very good at working together. Godric wanted a straight charge up the middle, death-or-glory style. Rowena wanted an elaborate battle plan involving perfect timing and the movement of a great many troops they didn’t actually have. Salazar suggested they just seed the enemy’s supplies with botulism and canine distemper.
            “Cowardly!” cried Godric. But Rowena looked thoughtful. Helga tapped a fingernail on her teeth.
            In the end, it was agreed that they would simply all meet on the field of battle tomorrow, ready to fight, and see what the future held.


            In the morning, three wizards gathered on the field of battle. It was a groad, grassy bowl, bordered by hills. Giants and basilisks and werewolves wearing glasses lurked on the far side, although the werewolves were looking a little strung out by the lack of moonlight.
            Rowena was surrounded by a swirling cloud of ravens. They flapped and shrieked in harsh voices.
            “Nice,” said Salazar. “Bit goth, though.”
            “Says a man wearing a giant snake as a bandolier.”
            “That’s not goth, that’s metal. It’s different.”
            Godric was riding a griffin and was a bit annoyed that no one had mentioned how cool it was.
            “You know that thing’ll go to sleep if somebody throws a coat over its head,” said Salazar nastily.
            “Shut up,” said Godric. “You can’t ride your snake.”
            “A snake big enough to ride would need a redesigned nervous system,” said Rowena absently. “You couldn’t get the messages to the tail fast enough. Not sure the circulatory system would hold up, either, to be honest—“
            “I notice somebody hasn’t shown up,” said Salazar.
            “I’m sure Helga will be here in a minute,” said Rowena.
            “What’s she going to do, bake cookies at them?”
            “She can be the healer,” said Godric. “Healers are important.”
            Salazar rolled his eyes.
            They waited. The griffin crapped and everybody had to move upwind.
            “We should never have invited her,” said Salazar. “She can’t found a wizarding school. Her greatest ambition is to get the garden weeded before company comes over.”
            “I’ve seen some pretty lethal plant wizards,” said Godric loyally. “With…um…you know, big thorn hedge things…” He made hand gestures. Salazar looked at him like he was an idiot.
            The ravens were getting bored. They ceased swirling and landed on the grass, grumbling to each other. “Ark. Ark Ark? Ark.”
            Godric ran a hand through his hair. “Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe this isn’t really playing to Helga’s strengths. We could…errr…”
            The ground rumbled.
            The ravens took flight. The griffin squawked. Salazar’s snake constricted in a panic, and Rowena had to help him get it unwound from around his neck.
            The grassy hillside split open.
            Claws as long as a man’s thigh emerged from the earth. Clods of dirt flew as a gigantic beast emerged, shaking its head. A cloud of wet air belched over the three wizards, smelling of worms and turned earth.
            “Sorry!” called a voice from inside the cloud. “Sorry! Monty, you came up too close! You’ll trample the wrong people!””
            “Oh dear god, it’s a badger,” said Godric.
            “Dire badger, I believe,” said Rowena. “Meles dirus. I thought they were extinct…
Salazar put a hand over his eyes.
            It was the size of a house. Helga’s saddle was halfway up the creature’s back, nearly lost on that vast curve of spine. She was still wearing her apron and her gardening gloves.
The badger shook itself again, spattering them all with dirt. The black and white stripes were visible now, along with tiny reins that ran to the base of the creature’s whiskers. It was wearing goggles that appeared to have been cobbled together from ship’s portholes.
            “Good badger!” said Helga. “Who’s a good boy, then?”
            “She named the badger Monty,” said Salazar to no one in particular.
            “Sorry I’m late,” said Helga. “It was hard to get the goggles on him. But he’s such a good badger! Does a good badger want to stomp the mean giants for Mommy?”
            The dire badger gave another belching roar and waved its claws.
            “Kill me,” said Salazar to Rowena.
            “Godric would love to.”
            “I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.”
            “All right,” said Godric, feeling that his authority was somewhat diminished by the fact that his very cool griffin was only about a tenth the size of Helga’s badger. “All right. Um. It’s not the size of the—“
            “Keep telling yourself that, Godric,” said Rowena.
            Monty began lumbering toward the enemy.
            “Would it be okay if we charged now?” called Helga. “I hope it’s okay! Monty’s not very good at waiting…”
            The dire badger broke into a waddling run.
            Godric spurred the griffin, because there was absolutely no glory in being left behind by a badger.
            Rowena and Salazar walked, rather more sedately, toward the enemy.
            “So, about letting her help found the school…” said Rowena.
            “I can admit when I’m wrong,” said Salazar, once Godric was out of earshot.
           “Yes, but you never do.”
           “This is me admitting that I am possibly wrong.” He adjusted his snake. “But you have to admit, you didn’t see the badger coming either.”
           “No,” said Rowena Ravenclaw, “no, the giant badger was a surprise.” She considered. “Hard work and loyalty aren’t bad principles.”
           “They’re a lot better when you’ve got a giant goddamn war-badger to back them up.”
           And none of the other founders ever questioned Helga Hufflepuff’s right to found a wizarding house ever again.

            THE END

 “Hard work and loyalty aren’t bad principles.”

 “They’re a lot better when you’ve got a giant goddamn war-badger to back them up.”

Reblogged from good is contagious

justinselsewhere:

anthonyedwardstarks:

During rehearsals, Brad Pitt and Edward Norton found out that they both hated the new Volkswagen Beetle with a passion, and for the scene where Tyler and The Narrator are hitting cars with baseball bats, Pitt and Norton insisted that one of the cars be a Beetle. As Norton explains on the DVD commentary, he hates the car because the Beetle was one of the primary symbols of 60s youth culture and freedom. However, the youth of the 60s had become the corporate bosses of the 90s, and had repackaged the symbol of their own youth, selling it to the youth of another generation as if it didn’t mean anything. Both Norton and Pitt felt that this kind of corporate selling out was exactly what the film was railing against, hence the inclusion of the car; “It’s a perfect example of the Baby Boomer generation marketing its youth culture to us. As if our happiness is going to come by buying the symbol of their youth movement, even with the little flower holder in the plastic molding. It’s appalling to me. I hate it.” 

THIS SHIT MAKES ME SO FUCKING HAPPY.

Reblogged from ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

edukaition:

medievalpoc:

kodrevas:

medievalpoc:

crowtoed submitted to medievalpoc:

This is Maria Christian, my former cast director at the Michigan Renaissance Festival as her character, Princess Isaade M’boukou. Maria’s been designing and wearing African-Elizabethan fusion garb to MiRF for decades, so she has a few different gowns and headpieces in rotation. In addition to her duties keeping the stage acts organized, as Isaade she acts as an impresario at the feasts, talks about West African traditions and folklore, and is much needed and treasured PoC representation on the cast.

I go to the Michigan RenFest every year and I remember see this woman’s amazing dresses. Fun fact, we also have The Nun, who roams the grounds in a period habit trying to save souls and punishing nonbelievers. She’s also a very awesome black woman.

That sounds amazing and terrifying.

Mother Superior’s name is Angie Hill. I’m honored to know both her and Maria personally. Amazing ladies.

Reblogged from edukaition

an endless list of Vollha’s favourite characters North by Northwest’s Roger Thornhill
" Not that I mind a slight case of abduction now and then, but I have tickets for the theater this evening, to a show I was looking forward to and I get, well, kind of unreasonable about things like that.”

Reblogged from ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called “leaves”) imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time ― proof that humans can work magic.
— CARL SAGAN (via dropitlikefscottt)

ladyloveandjustice:

Also yeah, I’ve said it before, but like when people are like “why doesn’t Harry ask for help more, why doesn’t he ask questions” THAT IS LITERALLY WHAT HE LEARNED HE WOULD BE PUNISHED FOR DOING GROWING UP. It was drilled into him not to ask for help.

Like the scene that will always break my heart is when Ron discovered Umbridge was basically forcing Harry to mutilate himself, and he was like “WHY THE HECK DIDN’T YOU TELL ANYBODY? WE NEED TO TELL SOMEONE RIGHT AWAY” and Harry’s reaction was “they’re busy, they don’t need me causing them trouble, it would just get them in trouble, they don’t want me to bother them” instantly and Ron was like “what the f*** man” because that is just so, so accurate to what you learn when you’re being abused and bullied. Do not ask for help. Do not bother people. They don’t want to deal with you, this kind of thing is normal and things will just get worse if you do.

It was just really well and subtly done. How Ron completely didn’t understand and was horrified but this was obvious and normal to Harry. Of course he was used to doing things on his own. Of course it was his instinct to keep it a secret.

Reblogged from good is contagious

to welcome you home

to welcome you home

Reblogged from SCAR ϟ SNAP
deesarrachi:

Good morning, #grumpy #kitty!

Yes, this is my cat Feets. Yes, he is a giant. Maine Coons ftw!

deesarrachi:

Good morning, #grumpy #kitty!

Yes, this is my cat Feets. Yes, he is a giant. Maine Coons ftw!

Tags: feets cats

socialworkgradstudents:

missknotty:

gameofreferences:

Michele Carragher, the head embroider on Game of Thrones, made this awesome tutorial to show how she created the dragonscale fabric that appears on several of Daenarys’ costumes in S3 and S4.

Ms. Carragher says that the dragonscale fabric was created because “In season 3 the Costume Designer Michele Clapton wanted a Dragonscale like textured embroidery that starts to emerge on three of Daenery’s costumes, which becomes heavier and more pronounced, growing and evolving as the season progresses” (Carragher).

In stages 9-11 of the tutorial we see how the textile evolves from lightly to heavily embellished. This progression is meant to illustrate Daenarys’ personal growth and the growth of her dragons (source).

Here’s a link to Ms. Carragher’s website.

WOW!

Don’t care about Game of Thrones but that shit is cool